The City of Lies
by EmJK
Summary: The Bob-Whites are ecstatic when they receive the opportunity to visit the City of Love, Paris, together. But what happens when they discover a terrorism plot that runs far deeper than the Seine; and even trickier to follow? (Contains lots of Jixie, Miana, and Broney)
1. Chapter 1

"Moms, Moms!" Trixie shouted, her sandy curls bouncing up and down as she ran down her driveway, almost bumping into her brother, Mart, on her way down.

"Whoa, there, sis," he said, "what unexpected event has triggered this rambunctious and raucous behaviour in you?"

"Oh, be quiet!" Trixie replied curtly, "Not even you can ruin this perfect day!" she continued down the road, ignoring his continuous tries to use long words. She threw open the door to Crabapple Farm with a slam, rushing inside to the kitchen. "Oh, Moms, you'll never believe it!"

Her mother glanced up from the stack of dishes she was finishing, drying her hands on a towel hanging from the stovetop. "I highly doubt you can surprise me any more than I'm used to, but go ahead. What won't I believe?"

Trixie squealed in happiness, pulling out a chair from the rustic wooden table and sitting down. "Mr. Wheeler has a huge business conference in Paris for two weeks, and he's offered for the Bob-Whites to come along!"

Mr. Wheeler was Trixie's best friend, Honey's, father. He was incredibly wealthy and very generous, always giving the Bob-Whites of the Glen another push towards their next great adventure.

"He's invited the whole gang to come along; Mart and Brian and I, Diana, Honey and Jim, even Dan!" she practically shrieked in joy, "Isn't it incredible?"

The Bob-Whites of the Glen (or BWGs, for short), were a club dedicated to helping others in need, collecting money and putting on events for UNESCO, sponsor children in Argentina, and even helping neighbourhood ladies to keep their homes. The club was founded by Trixie and her two brothers, Mart and Brian, Honey and her adopted brother, Jim, and later grew to include Diana and Dan, two friends who completed the amazing BWGs.

Together, the BWGs had ventured to places like the Mississippi River, Arizona, even England; but ever since French class had begun at the local junior high, the club had been dying to visit France. This seemed to be the perfect opportunity; two weeks in Paris to relax, eat, and stay away from the mysteries this group always seemed to delve into.

"Oh, Moms, do you think we could go? Mr. Wheeler would be taking his private jet and we would stay in a hotel right near Notre-Dame and it would be so historic and educational and we could go to the Louvre and-," Trixie's eyes fluttered up to the ceiling in imagination, a wild grin taking over her face, "We would leave in four days. Oh Moms, do you think we could do it?"

Mrs. Belden smiled, dipping her hands back into the dishwater and resuming her household task. "You'd be leaving in four days and be gone for two weeks?" she verified, looking back to see her daughter's vigorous nodding. After a few moments of tense silence, she spoke again, "Well, I need to speak to your father; but I certainly don't see why not. We were planning on going to visit your grandma for a few weeks soon with Bobby anyways; and this seems like perfect timing."

Trixie jumped up, racing over to her mother and enveloping her in a bear-hug, splashing water all around the floor and counter. "Oh, Moms! Thank you so much! I love you!", she shrieked, racing over to the telephone to call her best friend and tell her the good news.

After a few quiet rings, Honey picked up. "Hello?" she asked.

"Honey, it's me!" Trixie said, attempting to slow her speech as much as she could, "You won't believe the news I've just gotten!"

"Can you go?"

"Moms said we can!"

"Jeepers, Trixie, that's amazing! What do your brothers think?" she questioned happily.

"I don't know about Mart and Brian, I haven't gotten the chance to tell them yet."

At that moment, Trixie's brothers waltzed into the kitchen, quickly washing off their hands and beginning to set the supper table, at their mother's command. "What haven't you told us yet, Trixie?" Brian asked, placing the forks down.

"It's just the best news; we're going to Paris for two weeks!" she yelled, her ecstasy unable to be contained any longer. "Sorry, Honey, I've got to go. Talk to you later, okay?" She hung up the phone.

"You're kidding me, right?" Mart asked, his pretense of knowledge dropped at this shocking statement.

"No, Moms just said it was okay! We're taking Mr. Wheeler's jet and we're leaving in four days! It's incredible, isn't it?! Jeepers!" Trixie rambled, finally interrupted by her eldest brother.

"That's amazing," Brian agreed, always the calm one in their family, "We'll have to start packing right away and making lists of what we'll need before we go. Two weeks is a long time, and Paris is far away; if we forgot something it would be hard to get it back," he set the plate he was holding down, "Do you think our French will be good enough to make our way around?"

At this question, Mrs. Belden piped up, "Remember, I still have to ask your father if it's okay; and I'm sure your French is fine. Besides, most of France speaks English as well."

Trixie began doing a sort of jig, a wild dance that involved contorted limb movements, "I can't believe it, I can't believe it, I can't believe it!" she sang, waltzing around the small kitchen.

The door slammed closed, the screen rattling a bit as the Belden kids' father walked in, "Hello!" he paused, "What's got everyone so excited around here?"

After a few minutes of Trixie, Mart, and Brian explaining the situation, stressing upon its educational, historical, and cultural points, their father threw his hands in the air, "Alright, alright, calm down. I just need to verify a few things. Mr. Belden is taking the Bob-Whites to Paris in four days for two weeks for an educational trip to show off your French?"

The three siblings nodded vigorously, shaking from head to toe.

"I say it's a great idea."

Cheering erupted from the volcanic kitchen, waking Bobby, their six-year-old brother, from his nap the floor above. He hobbled down the stairs, his curls bobbing, "What's goin' on?" he asked.

"The Bob-Whites are going to Paris!" Mart shouted, punching his fists in the air out of sheer excitement.

"Can I come?" Bobby questioned, fluttering his long eyelashes, "I wanna go."

"No, Bobby, I'm really sorry, but you don't know French," said Trixie, taking her brother's hand in hers. He quickly pulled it away.

"I never get to go! You always say I can come on the next 'venture, but you never lemme!"

"Bobby, you're just too young," his mother explained, patting back his golden locks, "You will get to go in a few years, I promise."

Bobby just shook his head, "I'll never be old! I'm too small!"

"Why don't we discuss this over a nice dinner?" suggested Mr. Belden, "I don't know about you kids, but I'm starved!"

After a chorus of agreement, the Beldens sat down to eat, conversation bubbling around the passing of rolls, chicken, and green salad. Trixie and Mart collaborated on doing the dishes, while Brian got Bobby ready for bed. It wasn't until nine o'clock that Trixie was able to call Honey back.

"Honey, it's me," Trixie said, "I can't believe we're able to go!"

"I know- it's incredible!"

"Have the others gotten back to you yet?"

"Di says she can come, but Dan's helping out his family in the Midwest. Apparently, he also has plans to visit a certain cousin of yours," she teased.

Trixie sighed, thinking back to when her cousin, Hazel, had come up to visit. Dan was immediately infatuated with her, and vice versa. They had been planning to meet up sometime during the summer. "Why did he have to go now? I was so excited to finally have all the Bob-Whites together again!"

"It's awful, but you can't mess with true love, you know," Trixie could feel Honey smiling on the other end of the phone.

She sighed in disgust, "I'm blaming you if they get married."

Honey laughed. "Either way, I've got to go to bed soon; we have a busy four days coming up."

"Alright, I'll talk to you again tomorrow. Do you or your dad or Jim need any help getting ready? I could come and help," she offered.

"That sounds great; how about around noon?"

"Perfect! I'll see you then!

"Bye!"

Trixie hung up the phone, ambling up the stairs and into her room. She changed lazily into sleep clothes and slid into bed. The warm covers were inviting, exhaustion taking over her drooping eyelids; but Trixie couldn't sleep.

She tried everything; counting sheep, writing stories, even burying her face into her pillow until almost all her senses were erased. Unfortunately, the pit of anticipation welling in her stomach and threatening to drown her would not disappear. Finally, she decided her best option would be to grab a glass of milk downstairs and let sleep find her.

As she stepped down, as quietly as she could, she heard mumbled talking coming from the kitchen below. She hurried down, curious to see what was going on.

"You can't sleep either?" Brian asked her, sitting across from Mart at the oak table.

Trixie quietly slid out a chair, taking a seat, "No, I'm just too excited!" she responded, draping her head over her brother's arm.

"It is rather difficult to comprehend that in less than a week we'll be frolicking around the urban City of Love," Mart said, smiling as his sister struggled to understand what he'd just said.

"He meant that he can't believe we'll be in Paris soon," Brian translated, shooting a reproaching glare at his younger brother.

"Sorry," said Mart defensively, "It isn't my fault that some of us don't understand heightened language."

Trixie rolled her eyes at him, standing up on the hard, wooden floor and tiptoeing over to the icebox. She grabbed the jug of milk, pouring herself a large glass and hurrying back over to the table.

"We were just talking, and we have a pact we'd like to make with you," Brian said, looking intently at Trixie.

"What is it?"

"We think it would be best for all of us if we didn't get involved in any mysteries in France," her oldest brother said. Trixie attempted to interrupt, but he continued, "We know, we know. You don't go looking for mysteries, mysteries go looking for you. We just think that even if a mystery finds you, no matter how interesting or important it is, we shouldn't get involved. We want this to be a trip solely for education, amusement, and language, okay?"

Trixie thought for a moment, before nodding cautiously. "Okay," she agreed.

She had even the lsihgtest knowledge of the events that were about to unfurl, she wouldn't have made that promise so readily.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: There are a few things that the reviews have brought up that I'd like to acknowledge; firstly, I made a mistake with some of the details! Trixie's cousin is Hallie, not Hazel (thanks to daisyxduck for that), and Honey and Trixie did visit Paris for a very short time with the Wheelers in The Mystery of the Antique Doll (thanks to MaggieJo for that). Unfortunately, I haven't read TMotAD yet (my set is missing a few books here and there), so if anyone is able to find a copy somewhere for me to read, or could paraphrase the Paris trip, that would be phenomenal. Thank you so much for reading!

**Chapter Two**

A loud, blaring noise woke Trixie with a jolt. She lifted her sleepy head from Jim's shoulder, wondering how it had gotten there. All around her, the BWGs were waking from their varying degrees of slumber, glancing around the airplane, wondering where they were. It was Mart who noticed first, pointing out the window like an excited three-year-old.

"Paris!" he announced, as we all hurried to the windows to view the shimmering lights blaze through the charcoal sky like sparks.

"Oh my goodness."

"It's beautiful!" Honey cried, "How long until we land?"

Mr. Wheeler lifted his head from the newspaper he was engrossed in, looking up only long enough to reply to his daughter's question. "About five minutes until we hit ground. I suggest you get all your things together, as we're going to have to hurry to get back to the hotel."

"The City of Love," Di mused, fluttering her gorgeous violet eyes and tossing her black hair behind her, "I see why it got the name."

Trixie rolled her eyes but kept her mouth closed. It was a common fact that Di and Mart were infatuated with one another, but they would never admit it. However, the shared glances and occasional hand holding left Trixie to believe that there was more going on than they allowed the rest of the BWGs to believe.

"Jeepers, what are we gonna do first?" Trixie asked, revising the list of destinations she'd wished to visit on this trip, "We could go see the Louvre, or the Seine, or the Eiffel Tower, or-"

She was interrupted by Brian, "First, we're going to the hotel to get a good night's sleep. It's nearly ten o' clock, after all." He said. Trixie was disappointed, but she understood.

"Now then, folks, we have three rooms booked," explained Mr. Wheeler, as he folded his paper and placed it in his briefcase, "one for Mrs. Wheeler and I, one for the girls, and one for the boys. I advise you all get to sleep right away, as we'll be getting up bright and early tomorrow morning." He glanced sternly to the girls, knowing how late they could stay up giggling together.

Trixie smiled inwardly, aware that Mr. Wheeler was very kind beneath his professional exterior. As she leaned down to get her bag, she watched the light reflect off her silver I.D. bracelet. She sighed, thinking about when Jim had given it to her. It was at Happy Valley farm, in Iowa; the one time he had truly expressed his feelings for her. Since then, things had been moving at an alarmingly slow pace. Still, they were best friends, and Trixie was glad she hadn't put that in jeopardy.

Suddenly, she was jarred from her thoughts by the wild downhill ride of the plane, as it cruised towards the runway. She plugged her nose and breathed through her ears, a tip her father had taught her. Looking around, she saw all the other Bob-Whites doing the same. She let her nose go as the screeching sound of metal on rock told her they had landed.

"Paris, here we come!" announced Jim.

**...**

"You're certain you can find your way up to your room?" demanded Mrs. Wheeler, for probably the fourth time that evening.

"We're fine, Mom," reassured Honey, "go with Dad, and we'll see you in the morning."

Mrs. Wheeler smiled, accepting the room key that the hotel manager, Helene, offered her. "I love you!" she said, placing a kiss on both Jim and Honey's cheeks. She then turned, disappearing around the corner without another word.

"You will be in rooms nine-forty-six and nine-ninety-three, on the ninth floor," Helene announced, handing us each our respective keys.

"But those are so far from each other!" cried Di, confused, "I thought we were supposed to be right next door!"

Helene laughed, pulling out a map of the rooms for us, "Don't worry, you're right across from one another," she explained, as Di's cheeks reddened, "Room service is available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The hotel restaurant is also open Monday to Saturday, from six a.m. to eleven p.m. If you are in need of anything else, just ask me or another hotel staff, and we'll be happy to help. Thank you!" she finished, ushering us off so she could help the next couple in line.

"Why, this is incredible!" Honey cried, unable to contain her excitement for any longer, "We are in Paris!"

The other Bob-Whites laughed, cramming into the elevator with their luggage, and hitting the button for the ninth floor.

"I wonder what'll happen tomorrow," Jim yawned.

But as she watched her friends smile and joke about, Trixie couldn't help but to frown. She had a bad feeling in her gut.


End file.
